I've been looking back on my adventure in Hollywood, culling pages from my journal...
December began with feedback from Joel Simon on my script “Dashing Dan.” He didn’t “get” it. Too broad. Wouldn’t know how to sell it. But, hey, call anytime.
I called that agency. I got a Vanessa Howle, who was in desperate need of a receptionist, as she kept interrupting our conversation constantly. She seemed fixated on “Kringle” and was dismissive of the idea of a “production guy” showing it around. Said I still need an agent (duh). I never got to ask if she wanted me or the script, but she wanted to know who saw the script, wants me to “reformat” it, and maybe rework it a bit. So I put her on hold (metaphorically) for the moment.
I called that agency. I got a Vanessa Howle, who was in desperate need of a receptionist, as she kept interrupting our conversation constantly. She seemed fixated on “Kringle” and was dismissive of the idea of a “production guy” showing it around. Said I still need an agent (duh). I never got to ask if she wanted me or the script, but she wanted to know who saw the script, wants me to “reformat” it, and maybe rework it a bit. So I put her on hold (metaphorically) for the moment.
My next entry, days later, is not a happy one. A rejection from an agent in Brooklyn (really? An agent in Brooklyn and I let THAT get me down?). The Howle thing was still festering. I had no one to turn to (or I let myself feel that way). No word from the West Coast. I had received an invitation from the people who had done “Where’s the Party?” for some kind of gathering. That seemed interesting without seeming promising. Also, I had sent some material to Mad magazine (something I hadn’t done in years). All in all, I was just lamenting my fate.
A few days later I note a rejection on “Wedding in Wisconsin” from the agent Robbins. My writing is fine, as always. Just my scripts “stink” (my word, not his). He wasn’t engaged by the situation. He thought “pink tuxedos were cliché.” All in all, he doesn’t want to represent it. The “Where’s the Party” party was still ahead of us. I note some work matters (the dwindling Christmas bonus). I wouldn’t bother updating anything until the end of the month.
A few days later I note a rejection on “Wedding in Wisconsin” from the agent Robbins. My writing is fine, as always. Just my scripts “stink” (my word, not his). He wasn’t engaged by the situation. He thought “pink tuxedos were cliché.” All in all, he doesn’t want to represent it. The “Where’s the Party” party was still ahead of us. I note some work matters (the dwindling Christmas bonus). I wouldn’t bother updating anything until the end of the month.
As it turned out, the “Party” party was an excuse for a backer’s party, showing a new vastly edited ½ hour version of the show to some industry people. Sent a copy of “Wedding” to Joel Simon. Sent a copy of “Dashing Dan” to Vanessa Howle. Started typing the draft of “Peking Duck.” Was ready to begin “Closed Set.”
New material I wrote for Style Without Substance was going up that night, the group had been booked for a big New Year’s Eve festival Montclair NJ, where venues throughout the village was hosting music and shows to mark the New Year. In 1993, I'd be part of the group that would begin work on the Writers Guild award show. Work sucked, but home and hearth were fine, so my hopes were up.
New material I wrote for Style Without Substance was going up that night, the group had been booked for a big New Year’s Eve festival Montclair NJ, where venues throughout the village was hosting music and shows to mark the New Year. In 1993, I'd be part of the group that would begin work on the Writers Guild award show. Work sucked, but home and hearth were fine, so my hopes were up.
